"Why devote but one day to the Eternal Radiance whilst living six in moral transgression? The Ancients may have called our sun TRAPPIST-1 and maintained a seven-day week in loyalty to some bygone drunken heresy, but we cycle our Aquarian sun once every six days, and each cycle draws us closer to the Eternal Radiance's embrace. Let us give each day, therefore, to the Divine Light.
On the first, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of trustworthy allegiance, and call the day Fides.
On the second, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of dutiful devotion, and call the day Pietas.
On the third, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of personal discipline, and call the day Cultus.
On the fourth, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of study and teaching, and call the day Disciplina.
On the fifth, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of unperturbed self-control, and call the day Gravitas.
And on the sixth day, may we dedicate ourselves to the light of unwavering tradition, and call the day Constantia."
-- from the Holy Ovidiana
*~*~*~*
Valens had barely managed to coax Daedalus back to consciousness--and with him, the younger twin as well--when the Electi returned to drag the Princeps away again.
"No," Domi pleaded, voice weak as he sat half-upright on the bed where Valens had deposited the pair. The kid stretched a trembling arm out for his brother's limp hand.
The Electi pulled the dazed older boy beyond Domi's reach and glared down at the younger twin. "The Rex is ready to render sentencing," she said and led Daedalus, stumbling and sallow, to the door.
Valens doubted the Princeps knew where he was or what was happening. Daedalus gazed around the ornate cell, brown eyes fearful and lost as they drifted from black rug, to glowing wall sconce, to looming starholder.
"Sentence him?" Domi gasped. Valens cursed and flung a hand across the boy's torso as his alumna tried to spring toward the Electi. "No, it was me! Leave him alone!"
"Hush," Valens warned, eying the guard's fingers as her hand twitched toward the cluden at her waist. Now that the Rex knew Domi's identity, Valens doubted the boy's royal status would provide protection from violence, and the wards in the room would make defending the kid hard. "It's just sentencing. He'll be alright." For now.
Domi shook his head at Valens's words and then, harder, frantic, at the Electi as she pushed Daedalus out the door. "You don't know that!"
"I do," Valens said, sighing as the door closed with finality. When the time came to carry out the sentence, the Rex would make a public spectacle of administering justice. His heart pounded in his chest. He just hoped his alumna would not be dragged into that spectacle as well.
"B-but--"
He drew Domi back against the pillows. "Come here. Focus on your breathing. If you stay calm, it might help your brother get through this."
"What's going to happen to him?" Domi asked, shaking with echoes of fever and fear. His eyes searched Valens's face for reassurance.
Valens could not deny that look. He slumped on the edge of the bed and sighed. "I don't know," he lied.
<>
The glittering sea of bejeweled Promethidae parted and, overshadowed by the adults, Princeps Daedalus's small figure stumbled through the throng toward the Throne of Regret.
YOU ARE READING
Garden of Embers: Beneath Devouring Eyes #2
FantasyLightholder mages live by many rules. Among these: second-born twins must die for the good of all. In this sequel to Garden of Light, Domi, a fifteen-year-old apprentice sorcerer, has just learned the terrible secret that he is the younger twin brot...
